


Seto Remembers

by Sefiru



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Alternate Character Interpretation, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Children's card game, Desperate Measures, Family, Gen, Kaiba needs a hug, Loss, Mostly manga continuity, Past life memory, Redemption, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-06
Updated: 2017-11-06
Packaged: 2019-01-30 03:35:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12645309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sefiru/pseuds/Sefiru
Summary: The Nameless Pharaoh had the memories of his previous life sealed away. He was the lucky one.





	Seto Remembers

(1)

Not everyone has the luxury of sealed memories.

When I awake, I have no knowledge of where I am or what is happening to me. A blast of cold rouses me from dreams of shadows and blue-eyed dragons. I draw breath to protest, but all that comes out is an infant’s wail.

(2)

I am a bad-tempered child for the first few months: completely blind, unable to understand the language spoken around me, barely able to control my own movements, wondering why I’ve been born with memories of my previous life. This is highly irregular. It has the feel of the Shadows all over it. I would grind my teeth if I had them; I’ve already used up one life in service to the Shadow Realm, and now I’m trapped in a newborn baby to do it all over again.

(3)

After the first few months I start to relax. My vague sense of the Shadows shows no movement, and the language soaks into my mind like rain into the sands. Even without sight I know that this is not Egypt; the moisture in the air, the smell of green things, the scents of unfamiliar foods and the texture of unknown cloth. Strange mechanical noises from devices I don’t recognize. This place is so strange, so unfamiliar that I decide the best course is to simply be a child, and learn as a child learns. To have a normal life for once; born of commoners, no fate of the world on my shoulders. It might make a nice change of pace.

(4)

It’s not surprising that I quickly become a prodigy. With a child’s natural power to learn, and an adult’s disciplined mind, I absorb knowledge of this ‘Japan’ at a rate that astonishes myself. My parents are proud; intelligence is valued here. They bring me books, toys, lessons in foreign languages. I discover that the Egypt I knew is barely remembered, a matter for scholars and legends. There is no whisper, not ever, of the Shadow Games. And I have a _brother_. Perhaps the Gods don’t intend to ruin my life at every turn.

(5)

I spoke too soon. Seven good years, seven ordinary years, end in an instant. Mokuba barely understands why we must leave our home, with a single bag each, or why our parents are not coming with us. I appear to be dazed with shock, but within, I am deep in thought. I know what I must do now, I know what I must be. The holiday is over, and I must take up the mantle of protector again. “Don’t worry, Mokuba,” I tell him with a solemn smile. “Big brother will take care of you.”

(6)

I cannot protect him if I have no power. In Egypt, power came from magic and priesthood; here and now, from technology and corporations. Gozaburo Kaiba has the power I need, and a hook by which I can catch his attention. I don’t expect kindness from a man like that; I can survive without it, and I can keep his attention away from Mokuba. That is all that I can ask for.

(7)

Our name is Kaiba now. Gozaburo loads me with accelerated studies for ten hours a day; it would be every waking hour if his psychologists had not advised against it. He allows me games and puzzles, many from his allies in the entertainment industry. One day he walks up to my desk and drops a small cardboard box on it. “This just came from the CEO of Industrial Illusions. Look at it. See if it will sell.”

“Yes, sir.” But he is already walking out the door. I set aside my advanced statistics textbook and open the box; inside are a stack of foil trading-card packets. The logo reads “Magic&Wizards.” Mildly curious, I tear one open.

And I’m face to face with Kuribo. Its green eyes stare into mine, and the cards hum and pulse in my fingers. Oh, gods no. Shaking off my shock, I flip through the rest of the cards in the packet. Stone Soldier, Man-Eater Bug, Feral Imp – each one is a Shadow Monster, exact to the last detail. No amount of archaeological research could account for this. If I had my Rod, I could use these cards to summon with!

Who has gotten their hands on a Millenium Item? Which one? No rightful wielder would turn the Shadows into this children’s card game, so how long do I have before the Shadows devour his mind? Mechanically, I reach for more packets, open them, and sort the cards by type and strength. I must move forward with my plans – I must secure the power to shield Mokuba from the Shadows. And it looks like I’ll have to master this card game as well. The cards in front of me are all ordinary monsters and spells; none of the real army-killers have appeared. Yet. Gods of Egypt and Japan, just keep Mokuba out of this mess.

(8) Meeting Yugi

The takeover of Kaibacorp goes exactly as planned. All departments are working smoothly under my direction; I also hold the national title in Magic&Wizards. I’ve just turned fourteen. The PR department has suggested I attend high school to improve my image; however, I’ve forgotten how annoying the teenager of the species usually is. Not even through the opening assembly and I’ve already developed a scowl. I turn on my heel, ready to stalk out of the auditorium – my eye catches a flash of colored hair. I blink and look closer: it’s a crest of scarlet-black-gold I never thought I’d see again. Pharaoh! His gaze sweeps over me without recognition; I’m disappointed but not surprised. After all, sealing his name and memory was a condition of sealing the Shadow Realm. Perhaps high school won’t be as tedious as I expected.

(9)

“He thinks those leaves are money?”

“Gross, there’s garbage in there too!”

I pretend to ignore the upperclassman frolicking in the leaves, giving him a sidelong glance as I stride past the gawkers. Notorious bully and extortionist, check. Persistent and embarrassing delusions, check. Swirl of Shadows over the whole scene – check. It’s about time, Pharaoh! I enter the school and walk down the hall, turning the corner in time to hear,

“I can’t remember what happened after I finished the puzzle last night.”

Oh, by Sutekh’s forked tail! Can nothing about this be simple? Yugi Mutoh has the all-too-familiar inverted pyramid hanging form his neck, but his eyes are still wide and innocent. It’s as if more than his memory is missing. This isn’t my Pharaoh. This isn’t my _cousin_. And yet … _someone_ brought down a Penalty Game on Ushio last night.

(10)

Over the next weeks, I make a lot of notes in my private notebook – the one written in Hieratic so no one can possibly read it. Pixelated vision, exploding ice blocks; the Pharaoh is creative when he doesn’t have access to Ka. He’s still letting the Shadows control him, still having missing time. He has ultimate power and no idea that he has it. I have full knowledge of the Shadows and can barely touch them. I sit at my desk, drafting corporate memos after breezing through the coursework, and grit my teeth as I listen to Mutoh chatter with his tag-alongs. “… Really popular card game in America. Grandpa’s shop just got an new shipment in, along with some ultra-rare promo cards.”

“Great, Yug! I’ll get some cards so we can play together!”

I glance over and see Mutoh holding a fan of Magic&Wizards cards. I think it’s time I paid a visit to this game shop.

(11)

It’s a hole in the wall. Independent game shops usually are. As I walk in, Mutoh’s half-gaijin guard dog has a stack of cards in his hand. He should stick to fist fights, where he might be of some use; the subtleties of summoning are beyond him. I make some polite noises and demand to see his deck. I glance through it and tell him to try again once he’s collected ten thousand cards. I have that many with me, my battle deck in my coat pocket and a briefcase full of extras in case I see something worth trading for. I turn to the grandfather – he looks exactly like Shimon, what a ‘coincidence’. And there, lying on the counter behind him, I see _it_.

The Blue-eyes White Dragon. Kisara’s dragon. What is it doing here? How did this old man get hold of it? My vision blurs; without a second thought I set my briefcase on the counter. “I’ll trade you all these cards for it.”

“No.” The old man gives me some gabble about putting your heart in the cards. Imbecile; he has no concept of the bonds between a summoner and his beloved Ka. Seething, I stalk out the door, a new plan already forming in my mind.

At the Kaibacorp offices, I have access to card stock and high-quality printers. After an hour with the online Magic &Wizards catalogue and some graphics software, I have a fake Blue-eyes White Dragon card that is indistinguishable from the real thing. One way or another, the dragon will be mine.

(12)

The following day, I discover that my Pharaoh’s doppelganger has not resisted temptation: he has brought the Blue-eyes White Dragon card to school to show off. It’s a moment’s work to switch the real card for the fake. I return to my desk and slide the dragon into my deck, satisfied.

As I leave the school, I am beyond startled when Mutoh confronts me about the switch. That was not some cheap photocopy; even I can barely tell the difference without Shadow-sense. I brush him off – the dragon is mine, and nothing can change that. When I get back to my office, there is a message waiting for me. An invitation to duel. At the school, at midnight. With Mutoh.

Just like old times.

I step over the threshold and into the Shadow Realm. The power of Shadows courses through my veins, bringing with it the scents of sand and bronze. I’m so intoxicated that I barely notice the change in my opponent. I’m barely aware of the progress of the game, until the Blue-eyes White Dragon refuses to obey me. Kisara, why? I don’t even register my opponent’s next words, but the phrase “Penalty Game” rings clear – and then the Shadows thicken around me.

(13)

“Master Seto, please wake up – something has happened to Mokuba!” These are the words that reach through the Shadows that blanket me, let me tear through them to the waking world. I am in my bed, in my mansion, with one of the maids standing by my bedside.

“What is going on?” I demand.

“Master Seto! It’s Mokuba, his friends brought him home, he’s in some kind of shock and the doctors don’t know – ”

“Take me to him.” Ignoring the fact that I’m still in my pyjamas, I march straight to Mokuba’s rooms. He is lying in bed, his eyes wide and fixed on nothing; the Shadows are heavy around him. I turn to the friend – or rather, miniature thug – sitting beside him. “What. Happened.”

He tells me a story of Mokuba’s plan for revenge on Yugi, how his gang had forcibly kidnapped him (first mistake), then set up a rigged game against him (second mistake). How Yugi had trounced him using his weak pieces and superior strategy, and then called down the Penalty Game on him. Damnit, I am supposed to keep all of this away from Mokuba. How did he get the idea to form a gang of thugs? Where did he learn such cruelty?

_From me_. Holy Ra, no wonder Kisara wouldn’t listen to me. “I will take care of this,” I tell Mokuba’s friend, and walk away. The Shadows around Mokuba are fading already; in three days he will wake. I cannot even feel angry at the Pharaoh, for there is no question that his actions were justified. If it were anyone but my brother, I would have done worse.

(14)

I dress and go to my office, where untended paperwork rises high on the tray; I do not touch it, but clench my fists on the desktop until my nails bite into my skin. What has happened to us? Where have I gone wrong? A Penalty Game on myself I could possibly rationalise. But not Mokuba, whom I am supposed to be teaching the ways of honor of both Egypt and Japan. Somehow, I have left the path without noticing how it happened.

The Shadows. The Shadows will cleanse us. But I do not have the Rod to command them with. And I will not beg, even if Yugi could remember what his hidden side can do. Therefore, I will have to provoke the Pharaoh to action – which means I will have to honestly try to kill him.

(15)

The deadly tournament takes months to set up; I work with renewed urgency after two prominent artefact collectors turn up dead, in ways that can only be the work of Shadi. I will not let Mokuba face the judgement of the Scales; the Pharaoh, at least, has some mercy.

I wake on the appointed morning to discover that Mokuba has gotten a head start on the tournament by inviting Yugi and his friends to dinner and trying to poison them. Of course this has backfired spectacularly. I clap my palm over my face; maybe I can get Yugi to summon Celtic Guardian to knock some sense into him. I straighten myself and enter my office to attend to my own first task of the day. “Good morning, Grandfather Mutoh. How good an actor are you?”

(16)

As expected, Yugi gains the advantage before the game even begins, with a series of Shaow-fueled coincidences gathering his team of minions – and a baby, of all things – to his side. He seems to have better control over his transformation; neither my exaggerated raving nor his grandfather’s staged collapse are enough to trigger it.

(Needless to say, I didn’t actually drive anyone to suicide to acquire my dragons; the nice thing about collectors is that they take cash. Nor can holograms actually drive anyone insane.)

(Nor would I tear up a Blue Eyes White Dragon; I use the fake.)

Besides that, the games are dangerous enough to make me uncomfortable, but if there’s anything I still trust, it’s the Pharaoh’s power. He passes through the first three levels unscathed and without transforming – until he enters Mokuba’s game and _wills_ himself to transform. The Shadows swirl through the tower, and I quash a thread of jealousy. This is what we’re here for, after all. I frown as I watch Mokuba play; he has grown up in my image. Dishonest. Mean. The only thing I can do now is show him the final result of such a path. I press the button to trigger the holographic Penalty Game on him, and turn away. _Pharaoh, I leave him in your hands._

(17)

Yugi comes to our duel angry, ready to shred my soul to pieces, but he cannot do that until he wins the game. As card follows card, he is barely hanging on – without his memories, he fears the Shadows. Finally we stand, me with my three dragons and he with an empty field. The final draw. All or nothing.

Yugi goes still, seems to have a private discussion within his mind, and all his nervousness drains away. His hand falls on his deck, and the Shadows rise to meet it. He _will_ draw the card he needs. A Raigeki, perhaps? He lifts the card, looks me in the eye, and announces, “I summon Exodia the Forbidden One!”

“What?” There is only one copy of Exodia; one of the promotion exclusives sent to game stores – and the old man put it in his deck?! Exodia blasts my dragons to pieces, and the Shadows surge. The Pharaoh cries out, “Mind crush!”

When my senses return, I am in the room of my soul. Everything in it is draped in white cloth, except for the pieces of a puzzle scattered around me. Even disassembled, I recognise Battle Ox, my first Ka. For a moment, I bend my head in relief; then I pick up the first two pieces.

(18)

I find out later that I was unconscious for two weeks. The first thing I do is cancel half of my card tournaments and schedule a vacation for myself and Mokuba. Within days the rumors are flying that my defeat at Yugi’s hands has caused some kind of juvenile sulk. The work of running Kaibacorp fills most of my days; the board of directors is up to something, and Pegasus has rush-ordered a load of my holographic duel cubes for his upcoming tournament. I am going through the morning round of paperwork when I hear my office door open unannounced. I take a breath to complain, but the Shadows tell me who is there before I turn to look. “Shadi.”

“So, you remember,” he says.

“Did you do anything to my secretary?”

“She is merely taking a short rest.” Shadi stands in front of my desk – I can’t recall him ever sitting down – the Scales perched on one hand and the Key tucked into his belt. “I come to share news.”

“Oh, really. Then tell me who else is running around with ancient memories.” I take out my secret notebook and turn to a fresh page.

Shadi quirks an eyebrow. “As organised as ever, Seth. Very well. Besides you and myself, Isis has also been reborn with her memory. She bears the Necklace. The Rod is in the hands of her brother, the Tomb Keeper’s heir, but his soul is not of the Shadows.”

“That can’t be good for him.”

“Indeed. Akunadin is sealed, and Pegasus wears the eye.” (That explains the card game, then.) “Mahaado lives as the Dark magician; Shimon is reborn, but without his memory. The Pharaoh, as you have seen, is divided; he has two rooms in his soul.”

“You entered the Pharaoh’s soul room? How did he take that?”

“He … chose to have mercy on me.” Shadi looks faintly embarrassed, and I snort. Back in Egypt, a stunt like that would have gotten him the kind of Penalty Game he wouldn’t wake up from. “In any case,” Shadi continues, “My news concerns the final item, the Ring. It has been taken from the tomb, and I suspect that the Thief King has also been reborn.”

“What was his name again? Baklava or something?”

“Bakura. And beware: I have sensed his presence in this land.” Without giving me a chance to respond, he turns and strides to the door; I call after him to fix my secretary on the way out. Just perfect. All seven Items active, two in the hands of young souls. This can’t possibly end well.

(19)

Sometimes, it’s not necessary to see the future. As I suspected, Pegasus has gone completely around the bend and has taken my board of directors with him. That sort of thing is hard to ignore when it involves having me shot, stealing my battle deck, and kidnapping Mokuba. Fortunately, Pegasus knows less about computer security than he does about card games. Also fortunately, Kisara has forgiven me for my past behaviour, and doesn’t like the gay clown they have impersonating me. With that taken care of, I set forth for the Duelist Kingdom.

(20)

Pegasus is a dedicated pain in the neck. For one thing, he has loaded his deck with unreleased cards which are insanely overpowered. There are ways to confuse the mind-reading power of the Eye – but none of them can cover both my past and my cards. Which means I must once again put the outcome in the Pharaoh’s hands.

(21)

For the next several months I have little time to think about the Shadow Realm. I’m busy perfecting the Duel Disk system and organising the Battle City tournament to market it. My research department has tracked down Bakura and he’s laying low for the moment; Yugi and his minions have a few minor escapades with Dweeb Devlin and his Dungeon Dice Monsters. Seeing Joey in a dog suit more than justifies the expense of having them tailed.

(22)

The week before Battle City, I am listening to the news with half an ear when a very familiar voice comes on. Isis Ishtar looks out of the screen, the Necklace gleaming at her throat. “I would like to personally invite Seto Kaiba to visit our Egyptian exhibition,” she says.

Out of some perverse sense of humor, Shadi has not told her that I remember; I decide not to, either. I watch with amusement as she cherry-picks visions of the past that highlight the rivalry between me and the Pharaoh, ignoring all the ties of friendship that held us together. I remember the time we snuck a frog into Shimon’s water jug; I remember sharing drinks after an especially tedious court session. I remember performing the funeral rites on his mummy, before it was laid to rest. I remember everything … except his _name_. I tell Isis to get to the point. 

She gives me some nonsense about destiny, the sort of thing I’ve never paid any attention to. I turn to leave, and she mentions three cards that are too powerful to be released.

No way. Not even Pegasus would be that crazy. I turn around; Isis jabbers some more, and places the card of Obelisk the Tormentor in my hands. It burns the skin of my fingers.

(23)

I return to my office and lock the door so that no one will see me lighting incense to a playing card.

“It has been a long time,” whispers Obelisk in my mind. “Little King.”

“Not as long as I would like, Old One.”

“True. There is work to be done before my brothers and I can return to our rest.” There is a resigned sigh. In this life and the previous one, I never stop feeling disturbed that a being called The Tormentor seems to like me.

“So where are your brothers’ cards, Old One?”

“Gold Brother is in the hands of your usurper, the one who has taken the Rod. Red Brother is with a pawn, and he shall meet the Shadow King soon.”

Shadow King. Yugi. Better him than me. Of course, I will still battle him with all my strength, so that I can be certain that he’s a better sorcerer than me. “Old One, will you battle with me, though I do not hold the Rod?”

A gavelly chuckle. “Yes, little king, I will come at your call. Now tell me of this summoning device of crystal and gold.”

(24)

It’s true: the cards created by a Millenium Item wielder, combined with the Duel Disks also invented by a Shadow-touched soul, are capable of true Summoning. This makes the Battle City tournament more exciting than planned.

(25)

In the aftermath, I hear little from the other Millenium Item holders. Marik has been soundly defeated, and after a final surge of Shadow power, the Thief King also goes silent. With Isis gone back to Egypt, and Shadi off doing whatever Shadi does, that leaves only Yugi in Japan. The Pharaoh’s spirit is active frequently, but not for Shadow Games; he’s participating in Yugi’s life, and I can’t begrudge him that. Eventually Yugi and his minions take a trip to Egypt. Maybe that will finally unlock some of my cousin’s memories.

(26)

The intercom on my desk buzzes. “Sir, a Mr Mutoh is asking to speak to you.” Is he now?

“Send him in.”

Yugi walks into my office and looks around curiously. He is still wearing the Millenium Puzzle as a necklace, and he’s carrying a flat steel case slung over his shoulder; both are heavy with the Shadows. My pulse quickens. There is only one Item which would fit that size of case …

“Yugi. What brings you up here?”

“I have something to give you.” Yugi takes the case from his back. “I know you’ve said you don’t believe in this stuff, but this kind of already belongs to you, and – ”

“Give me that.” I grab the case and flip it open. The Millenium Rod is nestled within; my fingers close around it, and the Shadows surge through me. I grin as the power answers easily to my will.

Yugi blinks at me, then his expression flickers as his souls switch places. “Cousin Seth?”

“So, you finally remember.” 

“How long have you …”

“From birth.”

“That must have been frustrating.” Atem’s eyes flick back and forth rapidly as he re-examines events in light of this information. “You brought down a Penalty Game on your own head.”

“I deserved it.”

“You always were hard on yourself, Seth. Isis doesn’t know?”

“She never asked.” I’m still annoyed at having my tournament hijacked without a by-your-leave. “I would much rather leave the mystical mumbo jumbo up to you.”

“And I leave material concerns in your capable hands.” We match gazes for a moment, two ancient kings thrown into the modern world.

“Deal,” I say. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go summon my dragon.”

“Is that what they’re calling it these days?”

I’m already leaving; I make a gesture over my shoulder that was quite rude back in Egypt, and still is.

**Author's Note:**

> Sutekh is another name for the Egyptian god Set, who is often depicted with a forked tail. In mythology, Set acts as a rival to Horus (ie the King) and tests his worthiness to take the throne; thus, Seto is quite fittingly named.


End file.
